Alma record. (Alma, Mich.) 1878-1928, 1887-06-24

watching the tide coming in or going
out.
Mother" he often asked" where is
fatherP"
But she always gave the same
answer.
"lIe is on the sea, my child, attend
ing TO all the people that may be i'll on
a large sh p in which he is, and he tries
to make them well"
"And what are you saying to the sea,
mother?' he asked one day She turn
ed and answered him as if he had been
a man rather than wee child
II do not quite know. my daring. /
am sending prayer out with the tide.
| think, to your father, to come back
again. | always fancy that some of
those great waves may travel far away
till they touch his ship, and when the
tide comes back that perhaps they will
bring me some answer or some whisper
ed message from him.
And so the months went by, and then
suddenly some terrible news came. that
made his mother wiring her hands and
rock to aud fro in an agony of sorrow.
Don't cry, mother he said climb
ing into her lap; "come down to the
shore and watch for father" But she
only sobbed the more. and cried
"Oh! my child, my poor child, we
shall never watch for him more. He
is drowned and gone forever
Did YOU see him?' he asked, child
ishly; were YOU on the shore?'
mo. darling, he was far away
much farther than we can see-and he
is drowned, and lying in the great sea
forever she wept
Then he knew that there was a
great sea-world beyond his sight, and
that somewhere in it his father was ly-
Ing dead, and so the child's face grew
! grave, and his eyes always seemed TO
! be looking much further away than
! even the great hills themselves could
see The fsher-folk and the people
scattered in the houses on the hills
around were very good to Alice in her
sorrow, but they could not provide for
her and her children, and when letter
/ came from her mother, kind enough
now, begging her to come back to :he
West Inda an Islands, they tried to per-
suade her to 90. But she refused; she
could not accept what had been denied
to her husband, and though money was
enclosed it was long before she could
bring herself to spend a shilling of it.
She preferred even the charity of the
fsher-folk. SO letter after letter came,
but at last there was one she could not
resist.
Remember it it your own mother
you are stceling your heart against,
Mrs Brandleth wrote, land feel foI
your sorrow rs # it were my own, fol
your father d ed before you can even
remember. | am getting too old to
travel alone, but must 20 to you if you
will not come to me-
Then she broke up the little home
the home in which, in spite OF poverty,
size had been very happy in days gone
by, and in which her children had beer
born-and went TO her mother. Blu
she could not stay there. and so after
few years Mrs. Brandleth put the sugar
plantations under the care of an agen
and once more Alice Trevor came tC
England to live in small countr,
town.
Ten years from the time whenAlice lief
Drayton- on Sea, and the sun Shone NJ
longer down on little fishing village,
but on growing place of fashionable
resort The houses which dotted tho
hills were closer together, and at theiI
feet there stretched terraces and
streets, and on the once lonely shore
were the marks of many footsteps on
the sand. and rows of boats for hire,
and sailors hanging about, seeking fol
idlers who would sail beneath the sum
mer sun or listen to their yarns.
A glorious day, ma'am." Ton
Hardy said to an old lady who. fecbl,
and tired, sat down on one Of the few
seats scattered about. "Ah a glori
Gus day, ma am. Would the. young
lady like a sail I've neat little Graf
yonder."
mo, thank YOU" she answered
quietly. May, dear, give me NY
knitting > and the old woman and the
young girl sat down, shaded from the
fierce rays of the setting sun by tn,
life boat which was drawn up on the
sand behind them.
'ls the paint wet p the old lads
asked.
mo. ma am, faint wet" the sailor
said; tits the one behind I've beer
touching up. 1t INT long we We haC